Say Something
by InfiniteLoveLiz
Summary: Its funny, you spend what feels like a lifetime trying to become someone who was unnoticeable, someone who could peacefully live out your days alone, but in the process of trying to be another face in the crowd, you find yourself once again at center stage of a very dangerous game. Then again, you were always attracted to danger.


I spent months living in a small, second-story flat just in the hustle and bustle of Baker St. I never minded the noise, even though most had moved away, preferring another street where the now famous Sherlock Holmes couldn't dissect their lives or cause any type of commotion to them. However, I was good at not keeping the attention of the people around me, I kept my turquoise eyes downcast most of the time. My small frame led most to think I was much younger then my age, and most incompetent, something I usually used to my advantage. I kept my dark brown hair up most of the time, unless I was home alone. I had found that the color of my hair and lack of keeping it down kept most strangers away. Needless to say, I could make myself very much like an unnotable wallflower, and it was how I had escaped the charming eyes and devil smile of the detective across the street, and his more normal, but still quite capable accomplice John Watson.

I did have the interesting privilege to walk into Mr. Watson, however. It had been another rainy day on the streets of London, and I was attempting to rush to my house after a long day at work as a photographer. I had a bag with Chinese food grasped in one whilst the other was plunged deep into my pocket.

A bit of rain had gotten into my eyes, and as I closed them and tried to swipe the watery irritation out of them, I felt a small, wet collision with the chest of what could only be male.

"Oh wow! I'm so very sorry." I wiped more rain from my eyes and looked under my lashed to see the smiling face of none other then John Watson. "A bit of rain got in my eye so I couldn't see you. I'm very sorry."

John's eyes glanced up and down my body, himself finding me to be rather plain. Good thing for me. "Don't be sorry! It was an accident. I'm quite alright." He smiled again and I, in turn, offered a rather small upturning of my own lips. "I'm Dr. John Watson." He offered me a hand.

I pulled my right hand free from the depths on my pocket and shook his hand. "Shay Hadry, it's a pleasure to meet you John." I switched hands and shifted slightly on my feet.

"Well, I need to go before this gets cold." I decided to be friendly to Dr. Watson, simply because he had that affect on people. "If you ever need anything, I'm 218 A, across the street." With a small wave I walked across the street and into my flat, feeling the warmth that flowed through my veins.

That was nearly five months ago.

Today was a cloudy but particularly rainless day as I neared my apartment on Baker St. I walked into the complex and was surprised when my orange tabby cat, who I somewhat fondly named Bellini, was perched like a statue outside the door.

Bellini rarely ever left the flat, he was quite used to the warm, plush leather in the apartment, his 'castle' of a scratching post, and his human slave who fed him whenever he wished.

Today had not been a day that she had let Bellini out. As she unlocked the door as quietly as she could and slipped inside (letting in that blasted cat with her) she quietly padded into her room, then the bathroom, she was halfway to the kitchen when a screech from her spare room sent her storming in.

A rugged-looking man laid on the ground, grabbing the ankle of the slender look teen under her spare bed, a growl, something feral-sounding was ripped out of my mouth as I ran forward and smashed my foot into the face of this particular threat. I shot the young girl a look, and she dashed off somewhere to hide, based off the lack of sound from the door.

"Get the fuck up." I growled, crossing my arms and watching as the man slowly stood up to face me.

He was much larger than me. 6' 4" compared to my tiny 4' 11" and had a solid hundred and fifty pounds on me. He studied me, and laughed right in my face before he grabbed my arm and pulled me upwards and towards him.

He had literally picked me up off the ground, and I wriggled under his hard grasp. Once I was close enough to his face, I swung forward and, using my momentum to my advantage, stuck this stranger right in the throat and ribs.

He hit the ground hard, choking and flopping like a fish. I kicked him several more times in the ribs before I calmed down a bit and growled.

I needed to now get this man to a doctor, but a normal doctor would take to much time.

I knew what I had to do but that didn't mean I was particularly excited about it. I had to go and visit the home of none other then Dr. John Watson and Sherlock Holmes.


End file.
